


The Brightest Fall

by Blue_Pandas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Edging, Light Political Intrigue, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Sex Magic, Sexual Slavery, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 16:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30058164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Pandas/pseuds/Blue_Pandas
Summary: It should have been a fast and easy job: pretend to be a slave to the club’s owners, get in, steal the files, and get out. Unfortunately, it was a trap, the slave part is no long pretend, and Harry is being forced to participate in a high specialized, highly illegal ritual. Oh and have a lot of sex along the way.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter, Cedric Diggory/Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Cedric Diggory/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105





	The Brightest Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trashgoblinwizardparty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashgoblinwizardparty/gifts).



> For mith. Thank you for being you and may you have a wonderful year <3

“Apple juice, please,” Harry said. 

The bartender glanced up at him, then down at the simple collar around his neck. “Your owner?” 

“Tom Riddle and Cedric Diggory.” It was a risky claim, but only they—and by default, their pet—had the access he needed. Fortunately, they were out of the country at the moment. 

The bartender frowned. “They’re not in. Are you allowed to be here?” 

“Yes. Looking but not touching.” 

“I’ll charge it to their account then.” The bartender handed over apple juice in a wine glass. 

Harry grabbed it and sipped, mixing with the crowd. He paused appropriately at the scenes he passed, watching the floggers fall and pets getting fucked in a sling and a gangbang on a bed in the corner. Finally, he reached the stairs, downed the last of the juice, and jogged up. 

He bypassed the second floor of private rooms, going up to the third for the living quarters. Harry went straight for the bedroom, removed the false wall to the table stand. The safe was a new high-end safe that claimed to be unbreakable.

Harry cracked it in four minutes and thirty-four seconds. He ignored the priceless gems, going straight for the manila paper files. “Who even does paper anymore?” he grumbled under his breath as he pushed the door closed and stood up.

“I find that paper tends to be the securest option,” a voice said behind him.

He flinched and turned, left hand holding onto the package and right hand going to his plasma gun. Except no, it wasn’t there because he hadn’t been able to hide it in his ridiculous outfit. Harry glanced at the window.

“I wouldn’t,” the man at the door said. “Alarmed.”

The tiny black detectors stuck out from the sides just slightly but enough to be noticeable. Who in the stars wired their windows from the _inside_?

“So you caught me,” Harry said, meeting the stranger’s eyes. “Any chance I could persuade you to look the other way?” 

“Hmm, perhaps,” he said, “if you hadn’t used my name. Why don’t you set that down, and let’s go for a talk.” Phrased as a question, but clearly an order. He turned and walked away, clearly expecting Harry to follow. 

This had to be either Cedric or Tom, the owners of the club and the two-storey living area above. Harry tossed the manila file on the bed in disgust and went out the door. The light to the dining room was lit, and he stuck his head in to see a table set for three. 

“Sit,” the stranger said. “Steak?” 

He cautiously pulled the chair back. “You didn’t call Enforcement. What do you want?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it. Tea?”

He looked at the filled cup and lifted it. It was hot but not enough to burn his tongue. Harry sipped. Lightly sweetened, not enough to cover up the bitter taste of its origin in the impoverished Western quadrant. He’d grown up drinking it, adding honey on the occasions he could afford it. It wasn’t the type of tea he’d expected an aristocrat to own, much less drink. 

“A taste of home always makes me feel more comfortable,” the stranger said. 

His body grew cold. “This was a set up.”

“No, this was an introduction. I’m Cedric. Tom will be joining us shortly, but feel free to start.” Another smile. “I promise it’s not poisoned or drugged.”

Harry eyed him warily and took a small bite. He didn’t drop dead or pass out on the spot. “Could be a delayed reaction,” he said. 

“Could be,” Cedric said. He leaned back and his legs bumped against Harry’s under the table. “But I’d hardly kill you after going through so much effort to bring you here.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “For what?”

“We want to hire you for a job.” 

Harry looked up at the arrival of Tom Riddle, the other man Harry had claimed to be his owner. According his research, Cedric was the reasonable one, the one Harry would prefer to work with if he had to choose. Tom was just an arrogant, unrelenting prat who had clawed his way to wealth and power.

“A job,” he repeated cautiously. That wasn’t so bad. “What do you want me to steal and where is it?”

“Not that kind of job,” Cedric said. “Tell us, how did you get into this business in the first place?” 

He stiffened. “Not many opportunities when you’re from the West, and I had a mentor who trained me with a very specific skill set.” 

“But you had another job you could have gone into, didn’t you? A high paying job with the Ministry. They would have taken care of every need you had.” 

Harry forced a laugh. “Really? And what was that?” 

“Tripartite.” 

“No.” Harry could keep calm during a heist when everything had gone wrong, the alarms were screaming, and his exit was blocked. But now, his heart rabbited in his chest, and panic choked his throat. He pushed his chair back, ready to get out by any means necessary.

“Sit,” Tom ordered. He took out a tablet and turned it over to Harry.

He snatched it up. Ownership documents. His name printed on the top, Cedric and Tom’s signatures the bottom. The papers he’d hired someone to forge to get him in here. But that was his real name at the top. Harry Potter.

“Took me a while, but they’re legitimate,” Tom drawled. “Looks like we own you, darling.” 

“No,” Harry breathed.

“You even made it easier for us. A dozen people downstairs called us about our pet drinking alcohol.” 

“It was apple juice,” he grumped, frantically trying to figure out an escape route. One doorway, behind Tom. The windows in this room were alarmed too. 

“Sit,” Tom repeated. “Eat. Let’s talk terms.” 

With no way out, Harry reluctantly obeyed.

* * *

If Harry were inclined to be kind, the terms were rather generous considering Harry was _owned_ by Tom and Cedric, and they could legally do anything they wanted to him. One tripartite ritual, and they’d release him. 

He wasn’t interested in kindness. They had coerced him into this, along with a list of other standard terms he’d have to obey until they could get the supplies necessary for the ritual and wait for the time when the veil was at its thinnest and magic at its highest. Tripartite rituals were sensitive and finnicky, but when done correctly, they could amplify spells, create effects ten or even a hundred times greater than normal. Unfortunately, there were only a few people born with the inexplicable magic necessary to perform the tripartite ritual, and the Ministry kept all of them in a pampered prison.

Well, most of them. A select number had managed to stay two steps ahead of the Ministry, but it was a never-ending game of hide and seek and the Ministry had an advantage, forcing them to scramble and take risks. Which had landed him here.

Harry leaned against the wall and watched Cedric draw the ritual circle freehand. He had the textbook floating in the air over him, looking up once in a while to reference it. “You’re good,” Harry said. 

“Thank you.”

“Where were you educated?”

“Oh, here and there.” Cedric drew an equilateral triangle through the six circles, lines perfectly straight. At the centre, he drew a single perfect sigil. “There. It’ll take two weeks to absorb enough ambient.” 

“What kind of spell are you going to cast?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” 

Tom’s voice made Harry stiffen and he shifted to keep Tom in his line of sight. “Are you just going to keep me here for the next three weeks?” 

“Well, we could also go to the first floor, have some fun,” Tom said, voice low and sinister.

Harry flinched and looked away. Tom dragged a hand through his hair, pulling him closer before pushing him down. He dropped to his knees with a thump and winced. “Don’t you take care of your merchandise?” he grumbled under his breath. 

“I do when it’s precious,” Tom snarked back. 

“Stop fighting,” Cedric said as he stood up and brushed the chalk dust off his trousers. “Tom, he’s our best option. And Harry, stop antagonizing him or put your mouth to better use.” 

Harry opened his mouth—to refuse. But then the thought of Tom falling apart because of him made him think twice and he reached up. 

Tom grabbed his wrists. “No hands,” he said. 

He scowled but used his mouth to undo the button and drag down the zipper. Tom pushed his trousers and pants down enough to reveal a nice, thick cock. “Condom?” he asked, looking up. 

Cedric pulled one out of a pocket and handed it to him. Harry tore the packet open and rolled the condom over Tom’s cock. He swallowed it to the root, gratified to hear Tom’s bitten off curse. He sucked and bobbed his head up and down. Tom’s hand tightened in his hair, and his hips thrust forward, fucking Harry’s mouth and throat. Harry’s cock hardened and he reached down.

“No,” Cedric said. He’d moved when Harry had been distracted, now behind him and restraining him. “You know better than that.”

Tom came with a groan and loosened his grip on Harry’s hair. “I think we have a cock cage we can fit around him.” 

“Do you think you need help being obedient?” Cedric asked against his ear. His hand palmed Harry’s cock over his trousers and pressed down. “I think you do.”

Tom pulled out of Harry’s mouth and disappeared from his line of sight. Cedric pulled him backwards until Harry was sprawled across his lap. “Yes or no?” he asked.

“Yes,” Harry gasped out.

“Even if I don’t let you come?”

“Arsehole.”

Cedric’s hand swatted his clothed cock twice. “No swearing and answer my question.”

“Yes,” he repeated.

Cedric undid his zipper and pulled his cock out, stroking him with a firm grip that had Harry on the brink of orgasm in seconds. Just when Harry thought he was going to come, Cedric pulled his hand away, going up to his bare neck, a firm grip that held him in place. “You need a collar,” he mused. “A real one, not whatever you were wearing when you came here.” 

“I’ve spent years avoiding being collared. What makes you think I’ll let you put one on me?”

“What makes you think I’ll wait for you to sit still?” 

Harry scowled at him. “All the rumours that say you’re the nice one are wrong.” 

“Shh, don’t tell anyone. It’s my secret.” Cedric reached down again, stroking his flagging erection. Harry bit his lip and tried to keep his body still, hide all signs of when he was close to coming, but just as he was about to fall over the edge, Cedric took his hand away. 

He whined, pushing up into Cedric’s hand. Cedric laughed and stood up. “Normally I would take more time, but I do unfortunately have business to attend. Feel free to entertain yourself, but you’re not allowed to come. I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”

“That’s it?” Harry spluttered. 

“We have three weeks. Pace yourself, darling.”

* * *

The air positively sizzled with magic. Tom and Cedric’s club boomed with business as people surged in, looking for fun outlets with their magic. Normally, when the Veil grew so thin, Harry would be vibrating out of his skin from the magic coursing through his veins that he couldn’t release for fear of discovery. His skin would be oversensitive to the point of pain, and he would spend the days in his flat, wearing as little as possible to avoid aggravation. 

This year, he was oversensitive, but it was, for once, not because of the magic. Or rather, not just because of the magic. No, he had suffered for the past three weeks. Three weeks of being edged, of sucking Tom and Cedric off, of grinding his cock against a shoe and ordered to stop just when he was about to come, of being fucked while his cock was locked in chastity, of being told to sit on the couch and edge himself for Tom or Cedric’s entertainment while they worked for hours at a time. 

Harry Potter, Tripartite candidate and Ministry fugitive, was about to go out of his mind from lust. This was worse than the time he had tried an aphrodisiac, a cock cage, and a vibrator, just to lose the key to the cock cage. 

Not that he would say that aloud. Tom and Cedric would take it as a challenge, and he didn’t want to know what else they could come up with. 

The Tripartite runic array had been steadily absorbing magic every day. Now, it glowed in the middle of the room, almost blindingly bright. He wondered what spells they were going to cast, but they refused to tell him, and searching through their belongings while they weren’t around had results in nothing of note. 

Harry had thought that they would shut down the club on the day of the ritual to prevent anyone from accidentally witnessing a highly illegal crime that would get Tom and Cedric imprisoned, probably on a coal mine where they would work until they died. Few of the Ministry’s prisoners survived their sentence.

He, on the other hand, would end up in a cage they called protective custody. They would tattoo a tracker onto him, probably in a location that would mean death if he tried to cut it out, and he would never see freedom again. The Ministry would do their best to prolong his life, but their Tripartites never lasted long. They would use him, and when his magic stopped regenerating, they would retire him from service—a polite, dressed-up way of describing murder.

Anxiety had Harry pacing back and forth, waiting for night to come. The curtains were pulled shut, and the only company he had was the glowing array. He should probably have left, tried to distract himself, but every time he approached the door, he imagined someone accidentally entering and reporting them all.

A hand rested on his shoulder, and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Ready?” Cedric asked.

“Yes,” Harry said in a rush. “Let’s hurry this up.” 

“So enthusiastic,” Tom drawled. “The Tripartite needs your bodily fluid. Here are your options: saliva, blood, or semen.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Really? You’re letting me choose?” He’d assumed the three wonderfully agonizing weeks of orgasm denial were purely for this. 

“What we did before was for fun,” Cedric answered, as if reading his mind. “This is work.” 

“Well, I’m not about to spend an hour spitting, and I don’t do blood play. Besides, I think I’m owed an orgasm after all that. A good one.” 

“Then strip,” Tom ordered.

Harry had his clothes off in record time. Tom stalked towards him, and instinctively, Harry stepped back. White light bathed him, and he realised he had entered the runic array. Tom followed him in. He pulled Harry to him and kissed him, a harsh, aggressive move that had Harry slumping against him in submission, only held up by the strong arms around him.

A body pressed behind him, Cedric. Lips brushed against his neck, kissing and nibbling. Fingers stroked his bare stomach, trailing down and wrapping around his cock. They’d conditioned him in the past three weeks, and he was instantly hard.

Cedric stroked him with a firm grip, and Harry had barely enough mind left to pull back from Tom. “No,” he said, and instantly they stepped back. Harry turned to scowl at Cedric. “I want to come with your cock in me.” 

“Remind me next time to find someone less mouthy,” Tom said dryly.

“You like my mouth.”

“I don’t like demanding subs who try to top from the bottom. Now be good, or I’ll show you what it feels like to have a ruined orgasm.” 

Harry winced. “Fine,” he grumbled. “May I please come with your cocks in me?”

“Better,” Tom said. “If you want us, you’ll have to put the work in. Get Cedric hard. Use your mouth. Lick only. Don’t suck until I tell you.” 

Harry dropped to his knees. Cedric helpfully pushed down his trousers and pants, freeing his cock. Harry peppered Cedric’s cock with light kisses and flicked his tongue out to taste the pre-come. Cedric didn’t say a word, but he hardened slowly under Harry’s attention. 

“Good,” Tom praised. “Suck the tip lightly. Take him deeper into your mouth. Gag on his cock. You know how he likes that.” 

He used Harry to torment Cedric until finally, Cedric’s self-control broke. He fisted Harry’s hair and angled his head back, fucking his throat until tears ran down Harry’s face and spit ran down his chin.

“ _Fuck._ ” Cedric pulled out with a groan. “You’re too good at that.”

“Our good little cocksucker,” Tom said with a purr. “I almost don’t want to let him go after this.” And at this moment, Harry didn’t want him to either.

“We made a promise. Lube?” 

Tom didn’t respond, but a moment later, he pulled Harry over his lap and slid a finger into his hole. After the long three weeks of being used and stretched by their toys and cocks, a single finger wasn’t anywhere close to enough.

“Please, sir,” Harry begged as Tom deftly avoided his prostate. “Please give me more.”

Never wavering from the slow fingering, Tom hushed him. Harry whimpered and whined, and none of it made Tom move a moment faster. Finally, he fell limp, aroused and exhausted, and Tom inserted a second finger.

“See?” Tom said. “When you behave, you get rewards. And you want to be good, don’t you? You want to obey me because that pleases me. Such a pretty and sweet darling.”

The praise warmed Harry, and he pressed his forehead against Tom’s leg, searching for comfort. The cloth of his trousers made him wish for skin, and he let out a low whine.

“What do you think?” Tom said. Harry opened eyes he hadn’t realized he had closed and saw Tom looking up at Cedric. “Do you think he deserves it yet?”

Harry didn’t hear a response, but a moment later, Tom withdrew his fingers. Before Harry could protest, he felt the head of a cock nudge his hole. Cedric slid in, just a little, before pulling back out again. 

It wasn’t enough, wasn’t anywhere _near_ enough, and Harry cried out in a plea for more. He babbled nonsense words that he could barely hear through the roar of arousal, no idea what he was saying.

Cedric pushed back in, another inch deeper, just to withdraw again. 

“You’re such a bastard,” Tom said admiringly as he shifted to hold Harry tighter, preventing him from pushing back. “I can’t believe everyone thinks I’m the arsehole.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cedric said and he didn’t even sound out of breath. Harry hated him a little. “Everyone knows we’re both arseholes. We have a reputation.” On the final word, he thrust fully in, wrenching out another cry from Harry, from relief this time.

After that, there was no talking, just the slide of skin on skin. Cedric felt so good inside him that Harry missed his orgasm approaching. He came with a cry, splattering come over the runic circle.

Cedric pulled out a moment later, finished on the ground next to him, and slumped down, weight heavy against Harry’s back. He rolled off a moment later, and Harry instantly missed the warmth. Tom flipped Harry onto his back and slid inside him with easily. He wrapped a hand around Harry’s soft cock, stroking him in time to hard, fast thrusts.

“Too much,” Harry begged, squirming from the overstimulation. 

“Oh, darling, don’t you know by now that that’s an invitation?”

Harry shuddered under the force of his attention, and slowly the pain morphed to pleasure. He couldn’t possibly come again, but his cock disagreed, hardening slowly but surely. “I can’t,” Harry gasped out. “The ritual.” Another orgasm would throw it out of balance. 

Tom swore but withdrew his hand this time. He pulled out of Harry, apparently unwilling to risk the ritual, and brought himself off with a few strokes. When the semen hit the ground, the light flared.

Magic surrounded them, thick and heady, almost suffocating. Cedric—when had he gotten dressed?—held a wand, and he chanted, a foreign, musical language that rolled off his tongue without hesitation. Wind spun around them, lifting them all into the air.

“Hold on!” Tom shouted against his ear.

 _To what?_ The room was coming to pieces around them. Cedric’s voice rose until he was shouting, just barely audible over the whistling wind. 

And then, just as Harry was sure they would all be torn apart, everything stopped. He dropped on the ground, landing hard enough to leave bruises on his arse. Tom and Cedric landed on their feet because of course they did. 

“Did anything—” Before he could finish asking the question, something dropped out of the air. It landed on the ground with a heavy thump. 

A box. Cedric bent to the ground and opened it. He glanced back at Tom. Tom shrugged. Cedric sighed and _stepped inside._

It shouldn’t have been possible. The box was tiny, small enough to fit into the palm of Harry’s hand. But Cedric vanished inside, and Tom followed him. Curiosity got the better of him, and Harry scrambled to get dressed. He put his finger inside and felt a sucking sensation.

A blink later, he was standing on a grassy hill, overlooking a large prairie. It seemed like any other place except the grass was blue, the sky was green, and the clouds were pink. 

“Where are we?” he asked.

“Have you heard of the resistance?” Tom asked.

“There is no resistance,” Harry said automatically. The Ministry crushed all uprisings at the root. No one had lasted long enough to do more than post seditious posters.

“As long as there is someone who believes we deserve better than an oligarchy made of who stole power, who forces a quarter of the people into poverty, who imprisons talented people so no one else can have them, there will be a resistance,” Cedric said. “But to grow, to flourish, to _win_ , we need more. We need a base the Ministry can’t raid, one they can’t scry for. This is where it all starts.”

“You’re going to get yourselves killed,” Harry said. 

Cedric shot him a brilliant smile, eyes burning. “Maybe. But as long as I build something that lasts, I’m okay with that.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tom said. “I plan to live to the end.” 

“We’ll sign your release papers,” Cedric said. He waved his wand. The world shifted around them, and then they were back in the ritual room. “I’d say sorry and tell you I regret how we had to do this, except I don’t think that would mean much to you. I’d say thank you, but I don’t think you would be grateful for my thanks. Instead, I’ll tell you that if you ever need a place to go, you can come back here any time. No more rituals or traps.”

Tom passed a tablet to Cedric, who tapped the screen a few times and turned it over to Harry. Proof of his freedom. He was his own person again, able to take jobs, steal anything that caught his eye, and dodge the Ministry as long as he could, knowing that every day, they came closer to catching him

Or he could stay. He had been into the sex and the kinks every time, but he didn’t know what it would be like without the threats looming over his head. And maybe the Ministry would end up making an example out of all of them, but he’d rather that than be forced into the Ministry’s service, where they would use him for not one ritual but dozens and dozens until he had nothing left.

“I have a very important question,” Harry said abruptly.

“Oh?” Tom arched an eyebrow.

“How many orgasms does your sub get per year?”


End file.
